


Awakened

by Secretficjunkie



Category: Little Witch Academia
Genre: Acceptance, Aged-Up Character(s), Andrew and Frank are mutually pining oblivious idiots, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bullying, Characters 18 and Up, Denial of Feelings, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gay Male Character, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Louis is up to no good, M/M, Mutual Pining, Or Is he?, Pining, Post-Canon, Self-Acceptance, Self-Discovery, Sexual Content, Small mentions of Loumanda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:27:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 13,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29576787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Secretficjunkie/pseuds/Secretficjunkie
Summary: Vivid dreams trouble Andrew each and every night, robbing him of rest and peace of mind. After all that's happened, after everything, he can no longer deny that he's in love with his best friend.
Relationships: Frank/Andrew Hanbridge
Comments: 18
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Andrew's POV

Last out of the shower after rugby practice, Andrew fiddled with the cuffs of his school uniform. Frank was a few lockers away, carefully combing his hair into its usual rockabilly shape in the tiny mirror hung on his locker door. The rest of the team had long since left as Andrew finally clipped his cuff link in place, frustrated at the unusual clumsiness of his fingers. He shut the locker door and whirled to find Frank standing right behind him, completely unaware that he had moved. 

His heart quickened at the sight of that cheerful smile, but his well-practiced neutral expression and furrowed brow remained firmly in place. 

“Your tie is crooked, Tidbit,” said Frank, reaching out to adjust it himself. Warmth crept up to stain Andrew's pale cheeks pink at the mention of the nickname Frank had given him in middle school the very instant his height outstripped Andrew's. 

“I'm not fond of that nickname,” he lied, “and you swore you wouldn't utter it in public.” 

He was only dimly aware of Frank drawing closer as his fingers danced along his collar.

“But we're alone, now, Tidbit.” Frank's voice dropped to a whisper. His fingers pressed lightly into the back of Andrew's neck, sending a shiver down his spine. “I'll devour you, but I promise it won't hurt.”

Andrew wanted to ask what that meant but could scarcely breathe as Frank traced the shell of his ear with his tongue. The air was sweet with Frank's cologne and stopped all Andrew's thoughts and protests, weak though they were to begin with. He clutched at the coat of the taller boy as he felt lips graze his neck and large hands work to undo his belt. 

Andrew awoke in the real world with a start, gasping for breath. The noise that woke him turned out to be the very subject of his dream knocking on his bedroom door.

“Monday...oh God,” he thought as he realized Frank was here to share a ride with him to school for the week. He only grew more panicked at the musky dampness on his boxers and sheets. He couldn't believe he was waking up like this again. Guilt wracked his whole body for dreaming of his best friend that way as he raked the sheets off his bed for what seemed like the thousandth time. 

The dreams had gotten more frequent...and more intense as of late. Always always the same. Frank was nearby, minding his own business, and then suddenly, the whole atmosphere would change. Frank would invade his personal space with touches...and Andrew always succumbed, willingly. So willingly, it frightened him in the waking world. He saw shadows everywhere...paranoid that the maids would catch on from the balled-up sheets in the corner each morning. Paranoid that Frank somehow knew when he looked at him, like he could see the boiling want just beneath the thin veneer of decorum. 

His stomach turned with dread...what would Frank say if he knew?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank is deeply concerned for his friend. As it turns out, he has some deeply hidden feelings as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frank's POV

“Andrew? You okay?” Frank called, knocking for a third time. 

“Y-yes, I'm fine. I'll be along in a few minutes.”

Frank heard scrambling from the other side of the door. He hovered there for some moments with a furrowed brow. “Must be more dreams,” Frank thought, concern brewing for his friend. Andrew hadn't fully seemed himself. He briefly mentioned having intrusive dreams but skirted around the details and Frank had just assumed they were nightmares. 

He rambled down to the black town car belonging to Hanbridge senior. Not long after, Andrew came jogging along, tie and hair askew and looking like he hadn't slept in days. 

“Jeez, Andrew, you don't look okay,” said Frank as Andrew slid into the back seat beside him. He reached over to straighten his tie, puzzled when Andrew drew a stuttered gasp at the touch...almost as if it distressed him. Frank's concern bubbled over the edge and he felt he finally had to bring it up.

“Look, Andrew, I'm worried about you. You've been late nearly every day, you're clearly not sleeping right. Won't you please talk to me about what's going on? What happens in the nightmares?”

“Nightmares?” Andrew repeated, before regaining his usual composure and settling into the pensive state he occupied in the car. 

“They're...not nightmares?” Frank ventured carefully.

Andrew appeared conflicted, then cleared his throat, “Er...no. No. More like...amorous...nocturnal...” he cleared his throat again while searching for the right words. 

Relief washed over Frank and he let out a laugh that was way too loud for the car, but he couldn't care at the moment. “Wet dreams!” he fairly bellowed, much to Andrew's embarrassment. He glanced furtively at the dividing window between them and the chauffeur. “That's it?! Wow, you really had me worried!” 

“It's not that funny, Frank” Andrew said plainly. “It's been disruptive...they just...won't stop.” 

“He's becoming a man,” Frank said to no one, pretending to get misty-eyed. Despite the jokes, Frank was genuinely happy that Andrew was having strong feelings for someone...maybe even loving feelings. 

“So, let's have it! Who's the girl? Is it Atsuko Kagari? It's Atsuko Kagari isn't it?” Frank needled. 

But Andrew went quiet, which Frank knew was the sign that a subject was closed for the time being. Beneath the happiness, Frank felt a long-buried pang of melancholy, a pang he hadn't felt in such a long time. 

For the rest of the ride to Appleton Academy, Frank reminisced to the early days of his friendship with Andrew. Frank had always liked girls, been a little girl crazy in fact. But when he had met Andrew...a lot of people seemed the same...and Andrew...he wasn't the same. He became very dear to Frank in ways he wasn't sure he fully understood.

But he quickly had put those thoughts and feelings away. Andrew never showed any romantic feelings for anyone. And besides...his life was already pre-scripted. His father had already drawn up a list of eligible girls of distinguished pedigree that would be an appropriate match for his son and produce appropriate heirs. And Frank...he would be left behind. He couldn't have the love he wanted, no matter how much he ached for it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew stumbles upon some shenanigans in the bathroom and finds out there are already rumors circulating about his sexuality.

Classes were like torture. Frank sat next to him in every subject as he usually did and Andrew couldn't stop himself from sneaking glances at the blonde boy and jumping every time he stirred. Even in the waking world, his imagination ran out out of control and he conjured up scenario after scenario involving his best friend. Kissing in the dorm shower, running his hands all over Frank's chest and the slight softness of his middle, feeling his firm manhood pressed against his thighs-

“Please excuse me,” said Andrew robotically as the last class of the day was dismissed. 

“...Okay. See you in the dorms,” Frank waved with a friendly smile. 

God that smile was like a knife in his heart and soft sunshine on his shoulders all at once. 

Andrew burst into the boy's bathroom in the administration building, counting on the fact that students rarely frequented it. Though it was relatively cleaner than the other student's bathrooms, there was the faint smell of tobacco. He thought he heard a noise but chalked it up to the squeaking tap as he splashed cold water on his face. He hadn't gotten a restful night's sleep in what seemed like weeks and it was starting to show in the dark circles forming under his eyes. 

Just as he was sighing sadly at his reflection, a furious coughing started up in the end stall and the tobacco smell suddenly worsened, as if someone had been holding a mouthful of smoke and had run out of breath. Andrew, seeing that the stall was unlocked, pushed the door open. 

“Hello? Are you alright in here?”

Louis Blackwell stared guiltily back at him, sitting crouched up on the tank with a cigar in his hand, looking sort of like a troll under a bridge counting ill-gotten money from passing travelers. 

“What's this?” Andrew gestured vaguely at him with an open hand. 

“What does it look like, Hanbridge? Close the door!” 

Andrew stepped in and closed the stall door behind him.

“I mean with you on the _other_ side of it.”

But the thought had occurred to Andrew that, unlikely as it was, Louis was someone who shared similar circumstances as he. He felt if he couldn't talk to someone soon, he would burst. And this little smoking incident would be a nice bargaining chip to exchange for his silence. 

“I need some advice,” Andrew said bluntly. If Louis could date a witch, someone his father disapproved of so harshly and survive the fallout, there might be hope. 

Louis's eyes widened in surprise, replaced by his smuggest of smirks. “Well, well...Mr. Perfect wants advice from Appleton's biggest disgrace.” 

Andrew crossed his arms indignantly. “You sound oddly proud. I think Amanda's had quite an influence on you.” 

Louis said nothing, just tried to take another puff of his cigar, which resulted in a coughing fit. “So, what do you want from me?” he asked after the fit had stopped. 

“Well...actually it's something to do with relationships...” Andrew began carefully. “have you told your father that you're seeing a witch yet?” 

“Do I look mad to you?” Louis scoffed. “I figure I'll tell him after I go off to university. I'll be well out of throttling range by then...”

“Oh...never mind,” said Andrew, resigned to lapse back into repressing his feelings. 

“You're on about seeing a witch?” pursued Louis. “Your father would have a proper coronary too. Is that what this is about?”

“No, just forget it,” Andrew opened the stall door and made to leave. 

“Or is this about you and Frank?” he continued. 

Andrew's heart dropped into his feet. He only froze for a moment, but it was enough to give him away. 

“That's it, isn't it?” came Louis's voice, only slightly laced with haughtiness. “So it's true!” 

“True...?” Andrew repeated feebly, panicking and wondering how many people actually knew. 

“There was a rumor going around...which I did _not_ start!” Louis held up a finger, anticipating the next question out of Andrew's mouth. “I heard it from Simon. Didn't put much stock in it until now...he's such a miserable little worm.” He tried puffing on the cigar again. “It all makes perfect sense. If any other idiot in this school had as many girls after him as you do, they'd be hip-deep by now. Not you, though.”

Andrew was cautiously relieved at the marked lack of glee with which Louis came to his conclusions. Just months ago something like this would have been like Christmas-come-early to his self-proclaimed rival. Now it just seemed as though Louis could hardly be bothered. 

“My father wouldn't approve...” Andrew began, fairly admitting to the truth of the rumor. 

“No, I daresay he wouldn't,” said Louis with the clear authority of someone with an equally strict father. 

“What do I do? It's getting harder to keep it all...hidden,” Andrew said to the world at large as well as Louis. 

“Why don't you just tell Frank?” suggested Louis with a hint of mirth. “Sweep him off his feet. Marry him and revitalize Parliament!” He laughed bitterly, knowing full well that both of their future careers could be jeopardized by their choice in partners. But hollow laughter kept the anger at bay, so he used it for all it was worth. 

“You're a right pain in the ass,” seethed Andrew. 

Louis had the audacity to feign looking hurt. “Just know, I had a very good joke about you wanting Frank to be a pain in your ass...but I won't say it. Because I'm working on being a better person.” 

“You just said-” Andrew stuttered indignantly, then sighed, “You have a long way to go.” 

Louis shrugged and climbed down from his perch on the tank, tossing the cigar into the toilet where it extinguished with a tiny hiss. “Your father doesn't have to know, you know. Maybe he'll keel over before he ever finds out,” he said with a note of hope in his voice, speaking more about himself now than Andrew. 

The anxious knot in Andrew's chest had loosened a bit, despite the general train wreck of the conversation. Perhaps Louis was on to something after all. Andrew had kept his continued piano-playing from his father for years. What was one more secret? And speaking of secrets...

“I trust you won't tell anyone?” Andrew asked him. 

“I won't if you won't,” said Louis simply, turning to leave the boy's room.

Andrew wasn't sure if he was talking about the smoking or Amanda, but it hardly mattered.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank does something naughty that only brings deeply held feelings to the surface where he cannot ignore them.

Frank tossed and turned in his bed, rather dramatically after about the thirtieth time. He roughed up his pillow in frustration.

Andrew hadn't come back to the dorms after class until well after Frank had retired. Hadn't said goodnight. He hated to think that his best friend was trying to avoid him. And why? Was this new sexual awakening and slurry of dreams enough to make them drift apart? Frank buried his face in his pillow...he thought he would have at least a little more time before this started to happen. Tears almost sprang to his eyes as he spiraled downward. 

“We're eighteen...our last year of school. I'm _already_ out of time...”

Soon enough, he would be left behind. Andrew would likely start dating, probably a pretty girl from a pre-approved social circle. 

He couldn't understand why he felt so torn apart. Andrew had been gracious when Frank had taken a couple girls on dates. It was nice...dating...it was fun. But he hadn't found someone special. He hadn't found someone that made him feel...

A faint noise from next door took his attention away from his growing despair. Tip-toeing out of bed, he marveled at how such an old and money-bloated institution only had paper-thin walls separating its pupils. He put his ear up to the wall adjoining his and Andrew's dorm rooms. 

He slid further up against the cold wall, clenching his fist. Andrew was moaning, almost... _sinfully_. He must have been having one hell of a dream, unless he was...Frank wondered if that's how he sounded when he was awake, when he was touched.

Guilt spiked in the pit of his stomach as his own erection grew and twitched in his pajamas. But the moans and gasps coming from the other side of the wall drove his arousal over the edge. Warmth spread through his body as he palmed himself and clamped his other hand over his mouth to stop any noises of his own. 

As if on cue, Andrew grew louder as Frank stroked his length. He imagined being with him, touching his fine, smooth skin and lavishing his neck with kisses. Imagined licking and sucking along his maleness and being the sole reason Andrew would make those delicious sounds. Before long Frank reached his climax, spilling over into his own hands and panting for air, sinking down to collapse on the floor. 

His chest burned with what he thought was guilt at first, but soon realized it was the despair he had been holding back. The revelation crashed down on him that he desired Andrew...loved him. He had been there, watching out for him and loving him in the ways their friendship would allow...but he wanted more. He wanted everything.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew meets up with Akko and asks for a favor that helps him determine a bit more about himself.

Another night of lewd dreams left Andrew a tired, sopping mess in the morning yet again. He hoped an icy shower would banish the images of a golden blonde head bobbing up and down in his lap, fingertips digging harshly into his hips. The cold water reminded him of a thick, wet tongue licking up and down, working with pink lips to make the most obscene popping noise at the tip. Though the cold tricked his body into a sense of alertness, the imagery continued to swim in the pools of his mind. 

He was relieved to receive the call from his father's secretary, informing him that he would be pulled out of school for the day to attend the press conference at Luna Nova. Count Hanbridge often stressed the importance of knowing how to deal with predatory journalists in the world of politics, hungry for a weakness to exploit. Andrew's sexual troubles were temporarily pushed to the back of his mind at the happy prospect of seeing Akko and her friends again. Though he noticed, there was a pin-prick of regret that he did not see Frank last night and wouldn't see him again today. Though he was being tortured by the cheerful blonde's visage at night, it wasn't the real Frank's fault, and Andrew had to admit he was missing his friend. 

The illustrious witch school had set up a dais on the sports field for the members of Parliament and the press. Though no one could deny the opulence, it was scheduled to be a very routine press event, including more interviews with the junior seven the 'New Nine' and informing the public of new policies regarding magic. 

Andrew offered a greeting nod to his father, who was currently scowling as a poor television studio makeup person applied pancake to his skin for the cameras. 

“ANDREW!!” 

He heard her before he saw her...the unmistakable happy voice of a certain diminutive witch, who came flying out of nowhere and crushed him in a hug like an empty soda can. 

“Hrrngh...hello Miss Kagari...it's lovely to see you again,” Andrew wheezed out, patting her back as well as he could with his arms pinned. 

“You too! Oh, can you believe it?! More tv crews! I feel almost as famous as Chariot herself!” Akko squeaked happily as she twirled a bit, as if she was in a musical number on a hillside in Sweden. 

“It's fairly standard,” chuckled Andrew. “You should get used to the attention.” 

Watching Akko be her usual bubbly self lifted his spirits considerably. As she updated him on her flying progress and magical classes, he was content to let her contagious cheerfulness overtake him. She had had a profound effect on him in the short time they had known each other. Much like Frank, she could bring him out of his melancholy and remind him that there was a whole world outside the small serious one his father had crafted for him. 

He watched her red eyes light up and truly sparkle, and a curiosity grew in his mind. He wasn't sure if the idea was the right thing, but he had to find out, and hoped she would understand. 

“Akko?” he tentatively interrupted her. At the sound of her first name from him, she stopped instantly and regarded him with those big red orbs. 

“Is everything okay, Andrew? You look kinda tired.” 

“Yes, just some sleep problems,” Andrew scratched the back of his neck nervously. “I was wondering if you would help me with something...a sort of favor?”

“Oh yes! Anything!” Akko said without hesitation. 

“Come with me,” he gently led her by the hand around the edge of the dais, where they were hidden by thick magenta curtains. He turned to see her curious, precious face and felt a stabbing in his abdomen. Part of him hoped she would change his mind, part of him hoped she couldn't. 

“Akko...I need...I would like...would you kiss me, please?” 

Akko's mouth formed a perfect 'O' in surprise, her eyes as wide as could be. “Right...right now?” 

“Yes,” he said, taking both her hands gently. She was someone he cared about very deeply, it was her or no one. 

“As friends,” he amended, not wanting to scare her. 

“I'm not sure how this will help, but I said I would,” she said resolutely, a little smile playing at her lips. She closed her eyes and puckered just a little bit, which almost made him laugh. She was so cute. 

Breathing out, he bent down to close the space between them. She laid one of her hands over his in a reassuring way. Their lips touched lightly, then pressed a little more as she squeezed his hands. 

Andrew was surprised and yet...not, to find that he felt...absolutely nothing.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew and Akko have something in common that strengthens their bond. But Andrew still seeks the comfort of a clear head and turns to a certain genius alchemist for a solution.

A potent mix of giddy happiness and total stomach-dropping panic seized Andrew as he and Akko's lips parted from each other. 

She opened her eyes and stared curiously. He gently stroked her cheek and then drew her into a sudden embrace. 

“Thank you, Akko. You have really helped me.” 

“I did? That's good!” she said. 

“Yes,” he responded, breaking away from the hug. He knew now. If she wasn't the girl that could draw out romantic feelings, there was no girl that could. But he owed her an explanation. 

“Akko...you've helped me discover something about myself. I have to be honest with you, though...” He struggled to find the words, but they failed to make sense in his brain. He tried for simpler ones. “I...I don't want to be with girls.”

Akko's eyes widened even further. 

For a moment, he was terrified he would make her cry, but she crushed him in yet another hug. Suddenly he couldn't stop the torrent of words. “If there was to be a girl for me, it would have been you. You're precious to me, Akko. 

Tears really were streaming from her eyes now. “Oh, Andrew! You must feel so much...so much right now! I know exactly what you're going through!”

“You...you do?” he asked her ponytail, as her face was buried in his lapels, dampening them with tears. 

“Yeah!” she pulled away from him and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “When I was younger...I found out...I liked girls _and_ boys.” 

It was his turn for his eyes to grow wide. She just nodded in a knowing way. “It was...really hard at first.”

At that moment, a tv crew member wearing an earpiece and clipboard appeared around the curtain. “Miss Kagari? They're ready for you.” 

“Oh...okay. I'll be there in just a minute!” said Akko. Then she turned back to Andrew and whispered. “It'll be okay...we can talk more later about it if you want. Keep your chin up and do your best!” she smiled with all her sparkle and bounded off to the dais. 

As he took up an unassuming spot in the crowd, he was grateful to her to share such a private secret with him. He didn't know it was possible...but he loved her more for it. 

Despite this, all through the press conference, Andrew was not as okay as he would like to be. He thought that admitting it out loud would lift some of the weight off his shoulders. Ever since he was small and cared nothing for the fleets of girls that started to crowd around him...all the times he looked instead at the other boys...then when Frank came into his life and he felt even more...it all fell into place. But he was not comforted. He felt more afraid than ever. 

Looking up at the New Nine and the select political representatives from the crowd, including his overbearing father...he wished there was some way to banish his vivid dreams long enough to come up with a plan...just to clear his head even. Then his eyes fell to the lilac-haired witch on Akko's left side. 

After the conference was over, he approached Sucy's hunched figure as she stood alone at the punch bowl. 

“Miss Manbavaran, how good it is to see you.” 

Sucy looked him dead in the face with her one visible mauve eye and Andrew felt as if he was being x-rayed. 

“A delight, as always,” said Sucy in the most bored voice that suggested everything except delight. He knew better though. The simple fact that she was responding to him in kind was a good sign. Ordinarily she stood silently by and let everyone else handle the pleasantries and manners. 

He reached in the dark for a way to open the conversation toward the avenue he wanted...falling back on diplomacy tactics. 

“Miss Manbavaran...Sucy,” he said with a practiced lilt upward in his voice that usually worked like a lead coat of charm. 

“Cut through the crap cake, Hanbridge...you need something from me,” she said bluntly, sharp teeth flashing. 

“Okay, you're right,” he admitted, relieved and appreciative that verbal grease slipped right off her. “Is there magic or...a potion maybe that stops dreams? I would ask Akko, but...”

“She's a walking magic disaster.” Sucy finished for him. 

“Not the words I would have chosen, but you get the gist,” he said, memories of donkey ears and a tail swimming in his mind. 

“Fortunately for you, I have just such a potion. But...it'll cost you,” she said, stirring her punch as if it was a fancy cocktail. 

“You want money?”

“A girl's gotta eat...and you've got plenty.”

He studied her face, searching for a hint of a joke but found none. “How much?” 

A short while later, he padded his inner breast pocket to make sure the small phial was still there as his father extolled the virtues of a strong yet neutral political position in the face of prodding journalists.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akko tells her story of heartbreak and self-discovery.

In the car on the way back to the academy, Andrew's fingers kept wandering to press at his breast pocket, as if he expected the potion to vanish or grow legs and walk away. It wouldn't be the first time he had fallen prey to one of Miss Manbavaran's tricks. He fervently hoped the money would be enough to buy a little cooperation. 

Still...his fingers wouldn't stop. 

He pulled his phone out to distract himself, mindlessly scrolling through old messages. He sat stock straight at the sight of a new email...from Akko. 

_ANDREW!!!_

He smiled to himself. Even through text, all capitals and three exclamation points...surely she was unstable. And he was ever so glad. 

_I'm using the crystal ball to send you an email! I didn't even know we could do that! Lotte explained it all. She's so smart, honestly._

__

__

_Anyway, I couldn't stop thinking about you all through the press conference! I'm sorry we couldn't talk more. And after you just confessed too. I don't know if you've got a special boy in mind..._

His stomach did a flip-flop as Frank's smiling face materialized in his mind's eye and vanished just as quickly as it came. He read on.

_So I'll just tell you my story. When I was in middle school, I had a crush on a boy. I wrote a love letter with my confession and left it in his locker._

__

__

_Then, a few days later, I found a letter in MY locker! I knew it was from him. I knew it was. When I went to meet him after school...he said he didn't like me. He said he got the letter but he didn't return my feelings._

__

__

_I was hurt. And confused._

_I ran into the girls bathroom and couldn't stop crying all through last class and after-school cleaning. Another girl came and found me after the school was closed and they had to bring the keys back to get me out. It was huge mess._

Andrew's heart panged at the thought of little Akko, teary-eyed and broken-hearted. 

_She walked with me home. Then she said something. She said that SHE was the one who left the love note in my locker. I had never thought about it before...I mean..._

__

__

_I had a lot of friends that were girls. I would get them little presents. But never thought about it!_

_But she showed me a lot of kindness that day. I really understood girls' hearts I think, and how true and lovely they were._

_I still thought boys were cute too. So it was a pretty confusing thing. Well, you know!_

_Now I just wait for someone who has a kind heart...like that girl back home. Someone special! You have a kind heart like that, even though we had to dig a lot to find it! So you need to find a very special boy with a very special heart._

_I'll send you another email when I can! I have flying practice now. I'll do my best if you do your best!!!_

_With love, your friend,  
Akko_

The car came to a halt far before Andrew was ready to leave the private, quiet safety of it. He walked as slowly as he could back to the dorm building, thinking about Akko's story and wondering at how she could have gotten through such a thing. All those confusing feelings and a broken heart on top of it...he pitied her past self. 

His thoughts turned to Frank. Frank...he always talked about the very same thing...finding someone special. A tiny spark of hope ignited in him. Maybe...just maybe.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank's nerves are just as frayed to the very fringes as Andrew's but he's better at hiding it. Still, tender escalation is inevitable.

Frank had trouble maintaining his usual cheerfulness around the academy. Andrew had been summoned to the press conference. Frank missed him dearly yet was wracked with guilt over masturbating to his moans in the night. 

He couldn't focus on his classes, and more than once, caught Louis staring at him out of the side of his eye, almost as if he was watching for something. 

Frank was stricken with panic. How much could Louis possibly know?

“Nothing...nothing at all.” But Frank's guilt magnified every little coincidence into a looming shadow.

His fears were only confirmed when Louis sidled up to him in between classes when no one else happened to be around. 

“So...has Hanbridge...said anything interesting lately?” he said hesitantly. 

“N-no,” stuttered Frank. “I haven't even seen him since yesterday. Why? Did something happen to him?”

“No, no...no,” said Louis, looking away into the distance, eyes focused on some point far in imagination-land. “Call it friendly concern. Let me know, will you?” 

He wandered away. It was the epitome of strangeness. Though Frank had been the very first to accept that Louis had the capacity to change into a better version of himself, it still wasn't exactly easy to trust him. 

Later in the evening, Frank tried to distract himself reading in the dorm common room. When Andrew returned, he had to physically stop himself from leaping up and crushing him in an Akko-like hug. 

“H-hi Andrew,” he said cautiously, far enough away from the other students milling around that the happy note in his voice went unnoticed. He put on his best cheerful smile. 

“Frank,” Andrew nodded in almost his usual way. 

“At least he seems more like himself,” thought Frank. He wasn't sure what he was expecting...surely not affection, though it pained him to think it. 

Something happened then that Frank never would have expected. As Andrew passed him, he clamped his hand down on his shoulder. It wasn't particularly odd, but it seemed...just for a moment, that the raven-haired boy's fingers lingered on his arm, squeezing microscopically. He hardly dared to believe it. Had he just imagined it? Allowed hopeful thinking to get the better of him?

That evening in the common room, things almost seemed back to normal. Frank, Andrew and their small group of friends gathered around a table in the corner. Andrew wrote an email and read while the others played cards and discussed various topics of interest: girls, school, and sports among them. 

Frank was seated close to Andrew, nearly brushing thighs, which made his heart quicken, though he betrayed none of it to his comrades. He was as boisterous as ever...the life of the party. Whenever one of his jokes made Andrew chuckle, a surge of warmth shot through him and spurred him onward. 

Finally, as the other boys drew from his energy and became equally rowdy, Frank sat back and admired his handiwork. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Andrew squinting heavily at his book in the low light. 

“You need your reading glasses,” he said simply. 

“No, I don't,” Andrew instantly retorted, not looking up from the book. He hated his reading glasses...he reminded himself too much of his father whenever he caught his reflection. 

“We both know you do, Tidbit” Frank whispered to him, surprised at his own boldness. Despite getting a stout whack in the arm with the book for his sins, Frank thought he saw a hint of a smile and Andrew did fish his glasses from his breast pocket...maybe just to shut him up. But that was alright. 

In the dark of the night, illuminated only by the pale blue moonlight, Frank tiptoed again to the wall that divided him from Andrew. He pressed his ear and listened close. Silence. Utter silence. He drew little circles on the aged wallpaper with a finger, pressing his forehead against the cool surface. Oh how he wanted to hear his pleasured voice again, but reassured himself that sleep is what Andrew needed most. 

What he didn't know was that Andrew was just on the other side of the wall, hands on the wallpaper and breathing lightly, tortured by the slow spread of love's roots in his veins.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armed with Sucy's potion for keeping dreams and daydreams at bay, Andrew is clear-headed enough to ask himself some serious questions about the present and future and another revelation comes from an unlikely source.

Andrew had taken his first sip of Sucy's potion, and he fell into a dreamless sleep. When he awoke, he felt more refreshed in body than he had in what seemed like forever. No mess to clean up, no lewd scenes to haunt him as he prepared for the day. 

His mind, however, was still troubled. Rather than being laden with dreams of what he wanted to do to Frank and what he wanted Frank to do to him, his mind was freed to focus on the implications of yesterday's realizations. 

He would definitely be hiding information from his father, for one. His world, such as it was, likely would not be as accepting as Akko. And that left the question of Frank, the man himself. 

Andrew knew that he cared deeply for his best friend, most deeply out of every person on the face of the Earth. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt him or drive him away. 

“What do I tell him?” he asked himself aloud in his room, perhaps hoping the walls would magically provide the right answer. But of course...they did not. 

Would it be worth it to tell Frank the truth and risk the horror of rejection? Heartbreak...loneliness...he felt as if he was standing on the edge of a black void, screaming into it. Screaming to be loved...as he had all his life. But now it was a different sort of love...and yet he screamed all the same, all the louder. 

Another terrifying thought occurred to him...did he love Frank? Or did he just feel the late-blooming effects of physical attraction? He couldn't hurt him...above all. Even if he ended up alone and hiding his feelings for the rest of his miserable days, he couldn't hurt his best friend. 

BEEP BEEP!!

He was ripped from his thoughts as the alarm on his phone blared, reminding him that the day's studies awaited. Grabbing his book bag, he fled to his first class, questions still searing deep in his mind. 

It was torture again. But instead of jumping and flinching at Frank's every movement, Andrew found himself burning to reach out...to touch. Every time they were sat close together in the university-style tiered desks, his fingers inched close to Frank's leg, hidden behind a shield of oak. He itched to grab his hand, his body burned alive with want. He screamed into the void, begging. 

But he did not follow through with those desires. Every time they flared, he would throw back another swallow of potion. He poured over the questions in his mind over and over. 

He kept glancing at his phone, hoping for another email from Akko. Hoping for more advice to fall from the sky...a sign...anything.

None did. And as much as he hated the idea, it occurred to him that an underhanded bullshit artist lurking in a bathroom on campus could have more insight than his wrecked mind at this moment in time. 

After classes had let out for the day, he hurried as inconspicuously as possible to the administration building. Strolling straight to the bathroom, he flung open the door of the last stall to find Louis perched yet again up on the tank practicing smoking a cigar. 

“Jesus, Hanbridge! I thought you were Mr. Evans! Trying to give me a damn heart attack?!” Louis admonished. 

Andrew closed the door behind him, stifling a chuckle. “You're awfully jumpy for someone who suddenly doesn't care much about the rules. Why would the head disciplinarian scare you?” 

“He suspects me of some wrongdoing,” Louis narrowed his eyes at a spot on the wall.

“Gee, I can't imagine why.”

“What are you doing here, anyway? Every time I try to have a bit of fun you show up out of nowhere...as if by magic.” he turned his suspicious gaze onto Andrew. 

“I want to know...” Andrew said, deciding to skip to the main point. “Why do you love Amanda?” 

Louis's usual blustering, bluffing demeanor dropped like a rock and he simply stared for a few moments. 

“Why would you love someone that your father hates? Why do that to yourself? And to her?!” 

The silent stare continued, pale eyes in a pale face...pin-pricks of focus. Andrew felt as if he was being x-rayed again. 

Finally, he said with the utmost seriousness, “That's easy. She saved my soul. And when that happens, what choice do you have?” His bluster returned suddenly, as he waved his cigar hand about. “I mean, you always have a choice.” Then the facade faltered again. “But, _really_ , what choice do you have?” 

Andrew considered this point of view for a bit until Louis spoke again after a coughing fit. 

“I know you didn't tell him. I'm getting pretty sick of you interrupting my recreations while you waste time.” 

“You really should give this up, by the way. You're not even good at it,” Andrew retorted.

“For once, you might be right about something...it really is disgusting. I don't know how the old man does it,” he said, making a face at the cigar. 

Andrew wondered if it really was human nature to barrel headlong into situations that could get you hurt or if Louis was just mad. Perhaps it was both.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew really screws up.

Andrew ran out of potion quickly, much more quickly than he had anticipated. Only a day's worth...a day's worth of a clear head...he had already burned through the precious supply in just one day.

The dreams and daydreams returned in full force and only got more distracting. Every time he looked at Frank he was flooded with thoughts of messing up his neat gold hair, conscious of hands holding him steady as Frank tenderly pressed into his body and made stars explode behind his eyes. 

And yet he still hadn't confessed anything about his true feelings. After the press conference, he only carried on as if nothing had changed. He returned to burying his desires as best he could under a mountain of work and responsibilities. 

He had briefly pondered Louis's point of view and considered the state of his soul. Though not nearly as dramatic as Louis's near-death experience, he had to admit that Akko had done a lot to 'save his soul' as it were in showing him the light. Honestly, his relationship with his father had become slightly healthier and he no longer harbored outdated views about witches and their practices. But...that was not enough to make him love her as more than a friend. 

He thought of Akko...who had accepted that she could like girls just as well as boys much earlier in life than he was prepared to accept his own feelings in the here and now. These bits and pieces of everyone else's lives brought less comfort than he would have desired. 

When his thoughts turned to Frank, he was just as much a life-preserver in an ocean of misery as Akko had been a bolt of lightning. Frank had been there for years, gently nudging Andrew to expand his horizons, be open to kindness, saving little bits of his soul at a time. Still...fear took a foothold in him every time he thought of expressing it in so many words to him...indeed to the world at large. So he shut them out again. But they fought him and refused to be put away. 

As his lusty dreams and thoughts threatened to overtake his usually reliable mental walls, he conspired to meet Sucy in Blytonbury to lay his hands on an extra dose of the dreamless potion. 

He waited on the bench in front of The Last Wednesday Society, tapping his foot on the cobbles, anxiously watching for a sign of Sucy's slumped figure. He checked his watch repeatedly and fidgeted with his cuffs. 

Some distance away, Sucy observed his nervous tics, purposefully making herself five minutes late.

“Someone's antsy,” she said placidly behind him, making him jump and whirl around. He stood up straight away like he had somewhere to be in a hurry. 

“Ah, Miss Manbavaran...did you bring it?”

“Yes,” she said very slowly, regarding him with her one eye. Again, he got the eerie feeling she could see through him. 

“May I have it, please?” he said, a little quickly, a little forcefully. 

She leaned away from him an inch. 

“No,” 

“Why not?” he demanded, panic rising in his chest like the tide. 

“You're acting like a junkie...and I'm no dealer,” she said. “Whatever it is you're trying to avoid, you're going to have to deal with it.”

His panic only hit full tilt. “If you won't give it to me, I'll find someone else,” he said shakily. 

“No...I don't think you will,” she turned to leave and desperation got the better of him. He grabbed the sleeve of her uniform, but released it immediately at the realization of the terrible mistake he had made. 

She only had to shoot a death glare with that unnerving mauve eye. “You'd better get a grip.”

“I'm-I'm so sorry,” he stuttered. 

“I'm serious. If you don't fix whatever's going on...you're going to destroy yourself. And I only slightly care because Akko cares...fix it, Hanbridge.” 

And with that, she disappeared into the small throng of people passing in the street.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The shopkeeper of the Last Wednesday Society gets a little backstory and a little folks-wisdom-y.

Andrew bolted through the front door of The Last Wednesday Society and the tinkling bell summoned the good-humored, tattooed proprietor. He recognized Andrew vaguely, having seen him in the company of Akko and occasionally Diana. 

“Welcome in, young friend of witches, what can I do for you?” he said, jovially. 

“Hello...” Andrew started shakily, “do you happen to have anything that stops dreams? Potions or...anything like that?”

“Whoa, whoa...hit the brakes, young sir. Potions that mess with neurological processes like that can only be made by a top-tier alchemist, and you gotta have a special permit to sell 'em, which I do _not_ have...what with half of 'em being illegal and all.” 

Crestfallen, Andrew remembered something about that at the press conference. Mind control potions and anything of the like were now being strictly monitored by the government. A knot twisted itself in his stomach too, at the thought that he had just blown it with one of the only top-tier alchemist he knew to exist. Diana could probably pull it off, but she had never been one to suffer nonsense. She would likely encourage him to solve his problems instead of numbing them with magic, much as Sucy just had. 

“Bad dreams, huh?” the shopkeeper went on after taking a hard look at Andrew's hangdog expression. “I got an herbal tea that might help a little. It's just chamomile for relaxation but, you look like you could use a breather. This one's on me.” And he turned around to put the kettle on. 

Andrew simply sat at the bar, too mentally exhausted to refuse. A few minutes later, the warmth of the tea steamed up his hands and made them clammy in that cozy way. When he drank, it went a long way in undoing the knot in his stomach, though he still had no idea of what to do and the anxiety threatened to press in on him. One thing he did know, he had to make it up to Sucy somehow for acting so deplorably. 

“Can't sell you potion, friend of witches, but I got two good ears in stock if you wanna spill what's troubling you,” said the shopkeeper kindly. 

Andrew didn't want to tell this man everything he had been going through, the story would be too long and all the embarrassing details were too much to bear at the moment. But desperation yearned to purge the truth like an infection in a wound. A lump in his throat that nearly threatened to turn to tears in his eyes forced itself out through the simple expression of one of his most pressing problems. 

“I've found out something about myself that I'm not sure I can handle,” he said as he tugged at his cuffs, trying to stay vague. 

The shopkeeper was unfazed, as if he was used to hearing this sort of thing. 

“Well, you're yourself right, spending all your time in your own head? And can't accept this new thing? You sure it's not someone else who's eyes you're looking through right now?” 

The realization hit Andrew like a bullet train. Would he be struggling with it so much if only one little thing weren't true?

“It's not something my father would accept...” he started tentatively. Then, a bitterness coated his tongue, “Even though I've cut off pieces of myself and given up my life to squeeze just one ounce of pride out of him.” Numbness threatened to close over his body, just to block out the devastation of the confession. 

“Well...damn,” said the shopkeeper. “What about your mum?”

“Passed away.” 

The shopkeeper's face fell. “God...that sucks.” 

Andrew cracked a tiny smile at the simple sentiment. “I agree, it totally sucks.” 

“Hey though, I know a thing or two about tough parents,” the shopkeeper said, his face brightening back up. “My dad's face...when I came home with my first tattoo, at 14 by the way...I thought the vein was gonna pop right out of his head.” He laughed at the memory. “I got the belt that time pretty good.” 

Andrew bristled. Despite all his faults, his father had never laid a hand on him in that way. Seeing the man's copious amounts of tattoos, he felt he had to ask. 

“That didn't stop you I see?” 

“Nah, this is part of the art I use to express myself, friend of witches. I also write some poetry here and there,” he said, a little prideful smile on his face. “See, eventually I was able to move away from my dad's house. And don't get me wrong, it was a tough go. At one point I just had a mattress on the floor in a flat in the worst neighborhood. But it was mine. Cuz' you can get away from tough parents and a tough situation, but you can't get away from yourself. I got to the point...and it sounds like you've got to the point too, that I couldn't cut off any more of myself just for him.” 

“You...left your whole life?” he asked, barely able to conceive it. 

“I did,” he nodded sagely. “It was the right thing for me. He wasn't going to accept things the way they were, and I just couldn't go back.” 

A shiver crept into Andrew at the prospect of leaving the only life he knew. It wasn't ideal...he often had to do things he wouldn't choose for himself. But he knew no other way, he had been groomed for no other path. Was there really no way to reconcile the old part of his life with this sprouting new one?

As if reading his mind, the shopkeeper piped up again, “I did what I had to do, and I don't regret it. But...if there was a way I could have kept my old man in my life, I would have taken it...I would have taken it in less than a second.” After a beat or two he said, “Are you really sure your father wouldn't understand?” 

The rest of Andrew's tea went cold as he thought it over. The icy frozen distance between him and his father had shrunk since the missile crisis, it was true. He wasn't sure it was enough.

What if he did have to leave his old existence behind? His future career, his title, his responsibilities, his security...

It was hard for him, a young man who never wanted for the basics, the tools of survival, to imagine the shopkeeper struggling to make a life of his own. He tried to picture himself having to start a life over in a new place. Then his thoughts turned back to Sucy...an orphan who's life was roughly-hewn from survival and little else. His stomach dropped again with guilt as heavy as lead. 

“This may seem like an odd question, but do you have any fungus in stock?” asked Andrew. 

“That I do,” said the shopkeeper, and he bent down to retrieve an alchemy supply box from the lower counter. 

Over the next hour, the two worked together to arrange mushrooms and herbs in a pleasing way, and the shopkeeper tied a purple ribbon around the stems while Andrew composed an apology to Sucy. 

Later that afternoon, Sucy watched the lanky delivery boy roll away through the magic gates on his beat-up moped, then turned her gaze to the bouquet. Most of it was plain, local ingredients, but there were also some good ones in there. She pulled the card from the ribbon. 

_I'm sorry for treating you like a solution to a problem instead of a friend._   
_-Andrew_

It wasn't wordy...she liked that.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No good pining story is complete without the sharing-a-bed chapter.

A storm raged over Blytonbury. Clouds as black as coal sent thunder, lightning, and sheets of rain sideways in torrential winds. Frank was not fond of storms. A little rain never bothered him any but lightning and thunder were a different story. He always felt his nerves fray on the edges whenever the sky grew angry. This night, he sat on the edge of his bed, not even attempting the impossible task of sleep. 

Even if there hadn't been a storm, sleep was slowly starting to slip away from him as he was consumed with thoughts about Andrew. Over the last few days, things had seemed back to the way they were. His friend was getting sleep at last, but Frank's feelings didn't disappear along with the nighttime noises from next door. 

He let out a frustrated sigh, scratching his unstyled hair with both hands as one would a golden retriever. He almost didn't hear the soft knock on the dorm door. 

A shiver rocked his spine when he opened it to see Andrew, still half dressed in his uniform despite the very late hour. 

“Sorry, were you sleeping?” asked Andrew, nodding at Frank's pajamas. 

“Nah, you wanna come in?” 

Andrew nodded and stepped over the threshold. Heat prickled at Frank's skin at being so close to him...alone...at night. 

“W-what's up?” asked Frank jovially, trying to keep the mood light. 

Andrew fidgeted with his cuffs. “I...you don't like thunderstorms...wanted to make sure you were okay.” He coughed and looked absolutely everywhere other than in Frank's eyes. 

A bomb of warm fuzzy loveliness went off in Frank and he couldn't stop the smile spreading from ear to ear. “Well, I'm a grown man, I guess I have to get over it sometime,” he chuckled. 

“Would you like for me to go?” asked Andrew, fidgeting even more with his cuffs. At this rate they would come unraveled. 

“No!” said Frank hastily, then calmed himself. “No...please stay. I'm-I'm still not a fan of them,” he laughed. 

Andrew sat on the edge of the bed, so close to the edge, in fact, that he was practically hovering off it. 

“How are you doing by the way? Those hanky panky dreams stop yet?” Frank flopped down at the head of the bed in what he hoped was a casual way, grabbing his pillow to shield himself in case a certain bit of anatomy wanted to make a guest appearance. 

“Eh, sort of,” Andrew scratched the back of his head. “Actually that's what I wanted to talk about...the person in-in my dreams. I care for them a great deal...and I'm worried that...”

Andrew's usually stern brow turned upward and Frank noticed, perhaps for the first time, that without his trademark severe politician expression, Andrew's eyes were sad. 

“I'm worried that...if I confess my feelings...I'll hurt them. And hurt myself...they might not want me and I might lose them.” Andrew looked properly into Frank's eyes for the first time since he'd come into the room. 

Frank shivered, stricken by the sadness that poured out in the space between them. He was glad to be clutching onto his pillow as he was seized with the urge to hold Andrew, kiss his mouth...make love to him until his eyes didn't look so sad anymore. The pillow was the only source of stability in the world in that moment. 

He could only try to moisten his lips with a sandpaper tongue and say, “Could-could you stay friends even if that happened?”

“Could you? If your heart was broken?” 

Frank couldn't stop his mind from reeling, “Who in this wide world had Andrew so destroyed?” Oh how he wished it was him. He would kiss his tears away and wouldn't let a day pass without making sure he knew how he was loved and wanted. 

Thunder cracked and jolted the two back to reality. 

Taking Frank's silence as an answer, Andrew scooted further up the bed and curled up, facing away. “Can I just stay here tonight? Sleep over just one more time...like when we were kids?” His voice came out shaky, as if he held back tears. 

“Yeah-yeah of course,” replied Frank, looking down at the curled up form just inches away. He laid down next to him, and, taking possibly the biggest risk of his life, wound an arm around his waist. Utter terror was replaced quickly by delight when Andrew's hand closed over his own. Not caring if it was romance or friendship, Frank felt sheltered in darkness...in a warm loving cocoon that shut out the ugliness of the world and the storm that blew outside, listening to Andrew breathing softly. 

Andrew dreamed of sweet kisses, nectar dripping into his mouth and being home in Frank's arms on a mattress on a floor of a flat in a bad neighborhood.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snakes in the grass lay in wait for unwitting travelers. Someone may get bitten. 
> 
> WARNING: This chapter contains a slur against lgbtq persons used by a malicious character.

Andrew awoke with his face squished up against Frank's chest. At some point in the night, he had flipped over and practically glued himself to the taller boy. Panicking slightly, he adjusted his head up to see if Frank was still asleep, and was relieved to hear light snoring. As he looked from the messy tresses down his angelic face, following the column of the throat to the chest where his face had just been, inhaling his scent, he was suddenly dreading to leave that spot. He hated himself for chickening out the previous night and not telling Frank everything. But another part of him remembered Frank's silence in response to his question and his world was cast into doubt. 

Slipping quietly out of the blonde's embrace and bed, Andrew tiptoed to the door. Though the storm had run its course, the sun was just up and it was so quiet, quiet itself was almost a sound. Padding lightly toward his own dorm door, out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a quick movement down the hallway. But when he turned to look, there was nothing and no one. 

He tried his best to clean up his appearance in preparation for the school day. Doubt shadowed his every action...he felt guilty for leaving Frank without so much as a 'good morning', but was afraid of how we would respond if he woke up to find his friend in his bed, in his arms like a lover. As he donned the black waistcoat and made the third attempt at his tie, his fingers trembled. He trembled at the thought that he might have to go back to pushing it all away below the surface...cutting off another precious piece of himself. 

Things only got worse at his first class of the day. One glimpse of Frank's face told him that leaving was a mistake. He looked confused...hurt...and yet he continued to put on the bravest, most cheerful front he could. Memories of Akko's story speared Andrew's mind and his heart ached.

Before Andrew could even say a word to his best friend, Mr. Evans, head disciplinarian, appeared in the classroom doorway and summoned Andrew to his office in the administration building. He could only cast one last apologetic look at Frank before reluctantly following.

Evens made a show of shuffling through papers on his desk before cutting to the point. Andrew tapped his foot in what he hoped was an unnoticeable way, wanting more than anything to just go back to class. 

“The other professors and I have noticed some slippage in your performance as of late, Mr. Hanbridge,” he said, tapping a pencil absentmindedly as he spoke. “Absent all day yesterday...turning in assignments late...I don't want to involve your father straight away...”

Andrew winced at what, to Mr. Evans, was a cautionary measure, and to Andrew was a threat. 

“...but if this carries on, we will have to get more heavily involved. Now...what can we do to rectify the situation? After school counseling, perhaps...” 

“No, that isn't necessary, sir,” said Andrew quickly. “I was having some sleep disturbances...nothing more. I assure you the situation is handled.” 

Mr. Evans regarded him over his glasses for a few moments, as if weighing his options. Finally, he said, “Very well, then. But I want you to check back in a week's time to make sure you stay on track. Off you go, now.” 

“The problem with being a high achiever,” Andrew thought as he left the office, “is that you only have to slip up once or twice and it's as if the sky is falling.” 

He checked his watch, and since first period was nearly over, decided to stop by the bathroom in the administration building to regroup his thoughts. “Maybe this slippage is something to worry about. I haven't been normal in any sense in weeks...” 

_“Find a special boy with a very special heart!”_

_“Fix it, Hanbridge.”_

_“When someone saves your soul, what choice do you have?”_

_“You can get away from tough parents and a tough situation, but you can't get away from yourself.”_

The different voices of the past week echoed in his head, tipping the scales that balanced courage and doubt. Pushing open the door to the bathroom, he decided that he would take the consequences as they came...he might have to hide from his father for a while, and he might face heartbreak...but he had to tell Frank everything. 

The first thing he noticed was that he wasn't alone. Simon Ashby, a painfully mediocre boy a year younger and half a head taller than him, stood washing his hands at one of the many sinks. The second thing he noticed was Simon's expression upon seeing who came through the door. It was difficult to pin...rage? Disgust? 

Despite knowing the fact that this boy had been spreading rumors about him, Andrew offered a greeting nod, which was not returned. As he passed Andrew, he shoulder-checked him in a way that could not be misconstrued as an accident. 

“Do you have some sort of issue, Ashby?” Andrew snapped, halfway blocking his exit. 

“Yeah, now you mention it,” he replied aggressively. “You stroll around here like you're king of the place and I know what you really are.” 

“Is that a fact?” Andrew said, trying to stay calm and stall for time, searching for a way out of this. 

“I saw you! I saw you sneakin' out of Frank Thomason's dorm this morning in your day clothes,” he pointed an accusing finger. 

The bottom of Andrew's stomach dropped out as he remembered the movement in the hallway he thought he saw. 

Behind Simon in the last stall, an arm slowly crept into sight above the divider, the pale hand attached clutching a lighter. Andrew watched in morbid fascination despite the dodgy situation he currently found himself in. He didn't notice the other boy becoming more enraged. The lighter flame met the ceiling sprinkler head above the last stall. 

Simon grabbed him by the lapels, “Look at me when I'm talking to you, fag!” 

Andrew had run out of options and his anger flared, worse than it ever had. The only thing he could think to do was rear back and get ready to belt Simon in the jaw. At that moment, the sprinklers erupted across the ceiling, beginning a torrential downpour. A split second later, Louis tore out of the last stall, shouting and making the most God-awful racket. 

“Fire! Look sharp! Everybody out! Move! MOVE!” 

He pushed Andrew and Simon with both hands, and Andrew, well aware that there was no fire, was calm enough to observe Louis surreptitiously slip a rectangular object he had been holding into Simon's bookbag as they made their exit. 

Simon instantly fled to the right in the direction of the nearest door to the outside. Andrew made to follow when he was jerked back by the collar. 

“Go left,” Louis said simply and let him go, making a right then an immediate left down the hallway of administrative offices. Andrew scurried off to the left and found an alternate route out of the building, intent on reaching the dorms unseen to shed his wet clothes. He had a sneaking feeling he wouldn't want to be caught the scene of the crime.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A confession finally tumbles out.

It only took a few hours for the news to spread through the school like a real fire, unlike the hoax that took place in the bathroom. Frank learned through various sources and pieced-together bits of information that Simon Ashby had been caught smoking in the administrative bathroom and set off the fire sprinklers. Upon searching his bookbag, Mr. Evans had found Chairman Blackwell's missing cigar case from his office desk, half empty. The staff would only admit that they received an anonymous tip-off from another student and the rumors went wild. 

The other thing Frank couldn't fail to notice through the day was that Andrew was missing up until almost the last class. Worry bubbled in him. He had been there at the time of the 'fire' and could have been hurt in the ensuing chaos. 

But Andrew did show up in the middle of Economics class, pressed and dry as if nothing at all of interest had happened. If they hadn't been in a classroom full of their peers, Frank might have tackled him in a hug. Instead, he just mouthed 'you okay?' at Andrew as he slid in to the seat beside him. He nodded and, to Frank's shock, flashed an actual smile...a genuine one. 

Frank spent the rest of classes confused yet optimistically so. Going to sleep next to Andrew and waking up alone had been worrying...painful even. He had beat himself up all day for putting an arm around him in the night. Now he just couldn't wait to go back to the dorms and find out what the hell was going on. 

They were silent on their walk up the stairs from the common room. The very second they passed over the threshold to Frank's room, he grabbed Andrew and pulled him into a hug, no longer able to contain himself. Andrew similarly grabbed onto Frank like his life depended on it. 

“Everyone's talking about the fire...I-I didn't know if-” Frank stammered, still holding onto the shorter boy. 

“There was no fire,” said Andrew softly, muffled by Frank's shoulder. Finally they broke apart, letting” their bookbags drop unceremoniously to the floor, Andrew led the way to sit on the bed, much the same as they were the previous night. 

“What?” asked Frank, brow angled upward in complete puzzlement. “But...everyone, I mean even the _staff_...”

Andrew began an abridged version of his story over the past week, leaving out all the parts that might give away that he was deeply in love with his best friend. He detailed accidentally stumbling upon Louis, the real culprit in the smoking incident, on the first day and their subsequent encounters. He told Frank about the press conference, omitting the experimental kiss with Akko, but fully bared his poor treatment of Sucy. He repeated as best he could all the stories and advice the shopkeeper at the Last Wednesday Society had been kind enough to give. 

Frank just listened patiently, eyes wide as could be and mentally stockpiling questions for the end. 

Finally, Andrew got around to the chaos in the bathroom this very morning. “Simon said something...something that upset me and I almost got violent, I confess. Then Louis, who'd been hiding in the last stall the whole time, set off the fire sprinklers with a lighter. I suspect he's been caught...”

“No...Simon was caught smoking...and for setting the sprinklers off. They busted him extra hard for stealing Chairman Blackwell's own personal cigars.” Frank corrected him.

Andrew suddenly remembered Louis slipping something into Simon's bag, realizing grimly it must have been his father's cigar case. 

“Louis framed Simon,” he said simply, going on to explain how the evidence was planted and how Louis immediately ran off to the administrative offices to deliver 'the anonymous tip-off'. 

“Why him?” wondered Frank aloud. “He could have done it to anyone going in and out of the bathrooms for weeks.” 

“He could have done it to _me_ ,” Andrew said. “Several times.” 

“He's been acting odd recently...asking after you when no one else is around. Almost sounds like he specifically chose Simon for your benefit,” Frank said, absentmindedly scratching the back of his neck. “You said you two were fighting when the sprinklers went off...”

Andrew nodded, wondering why the shameless opportunist would take such a risk to help his rival suddenly, after all this time. 

“One thing I don't get...” started Frank hesitantly. “I've never seen you come even close to hitting _anybody_...you're all diplomacy and settling the problem with words. What did he say to you to get you so upset?” 

Andrew quaked. He unconsciously started fiddling with his cuffs again, growing horribly nervous at the impending moment of truth. 

“He...he called me a slur, for someone-someone like me,” he said shakily. 

At that Andrew fell silent, staring off into nothingness...the black void that he had been screaming into, desperate for love and kindness. It threatened to swallow him up. He only came to when he felt the gentlest of tugs on his sleeve. 

Looking down at the hand in faint surprise, then following it up the arm and finally into soft hazel eyes...perhaps he was just dizzy with nerves, but it seemed like Frank had drawn close. 

Impossibly close. 

Too close. 

Past all the defensive walls. 

Much too close. 

The truth spilled out through a crack in the facade. 

Andrew's whispers brushed Frank's lips, “I dream of you at night.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At long last, love and sex.

_I dream of you at night._

At Andrew's breathy words, Frank leaned across the inches that separated them and pressed a kiss to that mouth, the mouth that banished all his fears with six simple words. 

Andrew's lips trembled as he gently kissed Frank back. A yearning boiled up to the surface like magma and doubts burned away into cinders. 

In one swift movement, he pushed Frank onto his back frantically. “You're really here...” he said between greedy kisses, “It's not a dream...”. His hunger revealed a clumsy inexperience, the eagerness of a late bloomer who had finally made it to the pleasured promised land. 

“You okay?” Frank whispered through a glowing smile, cupping Andrew's cheeks to look him in the eyes. 

“I've wasted so much time,” he said shakily. His eyes looked sad again. Frank couldn't stand it...not now that he could love him sweetly. 

He easily turned Andrew over and gently pinned him into the plushness of the bed. He brushed the loose dark waves out of his eyes, planting a small, tender kiss. 

“No...don't look so sad, Tidbit. I'm not going anywhere,” he reassured him, stroking his cheek. 

Andrew smiled despite himself. Once upon a time he hated being the shorter of the two, but now feeling Frank's large, masculine hands lovingly on him, he reveled in the sound of the name dripping from Frank's lips. 

“You're all mine,” Frank said, with a new edge of lust in his voice. 

They kissed again, harder this time. Andrew's hands clutched at Frank's back and he arched off the bed to press against him. Dying for more contact, he slipped his tongue hesitantly across the other boy's lips. Frank pushed back with his own to explore Andrew's waiting mouth, drawing a moan from him just like the ones he made in his sleep, not a few nights ago on the other side of the wall.

The noise pleased Frank beyond all capacity for reason, being the one to make those sinful sounds pierce the air. It only spurred him on to go further, and coax more moans from young man below him. He moved to kiss under Andrew's jaw, sucking lightly. It seemed a shame to bruise such a lovely neck, as much as he wanted to, so he licked a healing trail along all the places he treated roughly. At the same time, he grinded his hips down and an electric shock went shooting through both their bodies.

“If only this high collar wasn't in the way,” he said, tugging at it playfully. Andrew was already thinking along the same lines, having almost unknotted Frank's white tie. 

“Un-undress,” Andrew gasped out, reeling from Frank's ministrations. Frank propped himself up and scooted back to allow Andrew room to strip. It seemed like an eternity to remove all the thick layers of their uniforms, from the ties down to the undershirts. As each piece was peeled away, one would reach out to touch the other, popping a button open or offering a kiss. 

When they were down to their boxers, Andrew was able to run his hands up and down Frank's chest, just like in his dreams, feeling strength coursing underneath his smooth skin. He realized hazel eyes were watching him, and looked up to see a blush blooming on his cheeks as he bit his lip. 

“Frank...do you even know how handsome you are?” Andrew asked him. 

His blush only deepened and he looked down sheepishly. For Andrew, the compliment was rote, and he realized Frank needed to hear it more. He would tell him every day...

“I remember this,” Frank said, thumbing Andrew's appendix scar just above his boxers. To his surprise, Andrew let out a giggle. 

“I'm ticklish there.”

“Oh, you should _not_ have told me that,” Frank smiled and pushed him back to the bed again. He bent down to kiss the scar and he heard more giggles from above, marveling at the rarity of them. He licked the skin at the edge of Andrew's boxers and giggles turned to heavy breaths.

Andrew hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers and pulled them off at last, Frank following suit. They both thought it rude to stare but neither could help themselves, raking their eyes along each other in unbridled desire. 

Frank saw a flicker of nervousness pass over Andrew's face at the sight of his impressive full erection, and gently pressing him down, reassured him softly, “I'll take care of you.” 

“Be-be patient with me? It's all so...new”

“Yeah...for me too. Anything you want. I...I love you, Andrew.” 

Now nervousness crossed Frank's face, unsure if he said too much too soon. 

Andrew's heart overflowed. He wound his arms around Frank's neck. “I love you too.” 

More kisses followed, sprinkled with little whispers of 'I love you'. 

With their clothes cast aside, their skin grew hot as their kisses deepened again, reaching a new feverish height. They throbbed and ached, grinding against each other. Andrew reached down between them to grasp Frank's manhood, stroking as he had envisioned dozens of times, and pulling stuttered gasps from the blonde. 

“If-if you keep going...I'm gonna,” Frank stammered as a slow devilish grin came to Andrew's face. 

“I know.” 

Frank suddenly grasped Andrew's hand, winding it around both of their cocks and continued stroking. All mischievous grins gone, they both panted for air. Frank dipped down to roughly kiss Andrew's neck, which pushed him over the edge. He cried out, and Frank reached his peak at hearing that coveted sound, both spilling over their bellies and their joined hands. 

He collapsed onto Andrew. They trembled with spent muscles and spent sex, holding on to each other as they came down into the warm, soft afterglow. 

After a while, their lips met again slowly. 

“You love me...” Andrew said quietly, hardly daring to believe it. 

“I do,” Frank smiled his genuine sunny grin. 

“I love you...I love your smile,” he whispered, running fingertips along Frank's cheek. 

Frank blushed again, then his eyes widened. “Oh! I'm sorry-I'm crushing you!” 

He lifted himself off the bed and pulled Andrew up after him, who honestly hadn't minded being crushed a little bit. 

“We've made quite the mess...”

“I'm used to it by now,” Andrew chuckled, un-bothered by the slight stickiness for the first time. Frank led him by the hand to the shower, where the new lovers started up all over again under the streams of hot water. 

For the rest of the evening, they were finally able to spill the truth about all the feelings and all the stories they had been holding back. Frank was delighted to see Andrew smile more than he had in years. 

They fell asleep together in Frank's bed, cuddled close and warm with no secrets or walls separating them. Andrew slept peacefully at last, nestled in Frank's arms with the knowledge he could stay in that perfect place when morning came.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At last able to revel in his new relationship with Frank, Andrew seeks out an answer from Louis concerning the fire hoax.

Andrew woke up to the sun streaming through the small dorm window. Frank was also stirring, rubbing sleep from his eyes. With the sun lighting up his gold hair, he looked very much like a sleepy Adonis and Andrew counted his lucky stars to be beholding such beauty. His heart only sang louder when Frank's eyes fell on him and his smile appeared, radiating genuine happiness at seeing him still in his bed. 

“Good morning,” Andrew said softly. 

“Did you sleep?” asked Frank, wrapping his arm tighter around and pulling him in close. 

Andrew was only able to offer a tiny nod before Frank gave him sleepy soft kisses. Sensitive to the still brand new type of affection, Andrew's libidinous hunger began to rise quickly, driving him to deepen the kisses in a fever of addiction to the nectar of Frank's lips. 

To his dismay, Frank pulled away and said with a smirk, “We have to get ready for class, you little minx.” 

Andrew groaned, the cold light of day throwing into sharp definition the rest of his life that needed to be addressed. 

“I'm taking care of you now, I'm not gonna let you have to report to Evans for educational intervention,” Frank laughed. 

Despite the deep disappointment of having to leave their love sanctuary, Andrew realized he was right. He knew as he sneaked back to his own room, that while they explored the new part of their relationship, he would have to catch back up on the other parts of his life his suffering had caused him to neglect. If nothing else, just to keep himself above his father's suspicions. So, for the time being, it would all have to stay secret...he and Frank. 

They embarked on the day together, occasionally sharing a coy smile and very sneaky kisses in between classes when they were sure no one else was around. Instead of the pure torture of the last few weeks, Andrew felt renewed, fiery in the anticipation of the day's end. 

Before the last class of the day, he spotted another familiar blonde strolling casually in the direction of the gym and suddenly remembered all the questions he still had about the massive incident of the previous day. 

He jogged to catch up to Louis, who turned at hearing the quick footsteps and said exasperatedly, “You again? One might think you had a stalking problem.”

“A word?” Andrew asked, glossing over Louis's usual bluster. 

“Alright, but walk and talk. I need to be on time for swimming as my last period recreation was cut short by some inconsiderate would-be brawlers,” he said evenly. 

“Right, as if it was my fault you were breaking the rules,” Andrew shot back. “What happened to Simon?” 

“Not expelled...by the skin of his teeth. His parents came in to testify to his strength of character...can you imagine?!” asked Louis incredulously as if he had never wriggled out of a well-deserved punishment before. 

“You shouldn't have done it,” Andrew admonished. “Technically, he was innocent.” 

“Oh, he was _far_ from innocent,” Louis said knowingly. “Stop trying to lecture me. I saved your skin, took him down a few pegs and gave up the glorious beginning of a dirty habit all in one afternoon. I'm practically a philanthropist!” 

“Why?” Andrew asked in all seriousness. 

Louis took a few moments to answer, as if debating whether or not to tell the truth. “Maybe...I felt I owed you one. For smoothing over the dueling bridge incident. Maybe I don't want to see you completely miserable.” He coughed, unaccustomed to admitting that he had any empathy in his heart. In his household, it was often treated as an expression of weakness. “I told you, I'm trying to be better,” he said defensively, preparing for a taunt. 

“Thank you,” said Andrew, choosing to have mercy on Louis and return to japing. “Still have a long way to go,” Andrew smirked. 

“Argue with my methods all you want, I get results! Might go into education reform instead of military politics...,” he said thoughtfully. 

“Either prospect is utterly terrifying for this country.” 

Louis made a smarmy face. 

“However, it's likely we will be stuck working together if all plans come to fruition, so we had better learn to be a team,” said Andrew, stopping to extend his hand, which Louis shook in a show of good faith. 

They parted ways and Andrew backtracked to his last class, pleased to see Frank waiting for him outside the door. 

Shooting furtive glances back and forth, he leaned in for a kiss, placing his hands on Frank's chest and imagining the nakedness underneath as a warmth pulsed through him. 

“You have to stop disappearing on me,” Frank smiled. “Where'd you go?” 

“Looking for some answers,” Andrew replied, pushing thoughts of nudity from his mind lest he wanted to daydream all through last class. 

Andrew caught up on his schoolwork in the privacy of his room, with the help of Frank offering little affections every time something got done. It might have turned out to be more of a distraction, if Andrew was honest, but he wasn't interested in stopping it. 

It was more than a knife to the heart to part for the weekend. Andrew couldn't help but feel he was slipping a mask on for the two grueling days devoted to practical politics in his father's company. But it had to be done...he would do it...for Frank, for returning to their sanctuary as soon as possible and for their future. Monday was a shining beacon that both could look upon, only visible to the two of them. Monday would save him from the ugly world, Monday he could return to himself.


	17. FINAL WRITTEN CHAPTER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew knows that for now, new love has to stay a secret, but with the small fervent hope that someday it won't have to be.

Over the course of the weekend, Andrew watched his father like a hawk, for any sign, any whisper of evidence that he would be able to accept what had happened. Foremost on Paul Hanbridge's mind and schedule were the new policies involving magic and its practices. 

They pleasantly discussed the press conference and the nuances of said laws. Overall, it wasn't terrible. It wasn't frightening. A tiny spark of hope lit in Andrew that, perhaps, if given enough time, things could change. He may be able to reconcile his two lives...but not quite yet. Not today. Today...his love stayed locked in a secret room inside him where he knew it was safe. It would be alright there for a while. 

When Monday did come, Andrew was up bright and early, almost giddy as he waited for the black town car to pull up the drive. 

He walked to the massive front door as quickly as he dared without running. He flung the car door open and slid inside without daring to look at his companion in the back seat lest he lose his mind before the car door was closed securely. 

Thankfully, the partition was already raised between the back seat and the driver. As soon as Andrew caught a glimpse of the limpid hazel eyes and sunlit smile, the kissing did not stop until they were halfway to school. 

From lips, to cheeks and jaw, and as much neck as was exposed above the collars of their uniforms. Andrew nearly ruined his pants at Frank's quiet demands of, “More.” 

It seemed impossible to Andrew that, just a week ago, he was doing everything in his power to keep his hands off his best friend. Now he couldn't stop touching him if he tried, intoxicated by love and the raw physical expression of it. 

“Good weekend?” Frank asked with a coy smile after they had parted for some much-needed air. 

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too...and I love you,” he said happily.

“I love you,” Andrew whispered, ecstatic to say it after not being able to send it in a text over the weekend.

The car pulled up to the front gate of Appleton all too soon, and the rest of Andrew and Frank's friends were leaning casually on the wall to greet them. The secret lovers unclasped their hands and alighted from the car, Frank waving and calling as happy as ever. Andrew offered a small smile, his diplomatic expression slipping back into place on his brow, but hands and lips still glowing warm from loving touch.


	18. Bonus Artwork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A visual epilogue of sorts. I drew these before and during the writing process to really get the mojo going, so they're very simple and in black and white but I'll leave them here for you for your enjoyment!


End file.
